


Date Night

by littleblackfox



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Meeting, Fluff, Inspired by Frau-argh and her amazing art, Luis is an enabler, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 08:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14016474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackfox/pseuds/littleblackfox
Summary: “C’mon, brah. He’s just a guy,” Luis gives Bucky a gentle nudge. “Don’t think about Captain America, that’s the movie you’re gonna see. Think about this nice guy called Steve, who didn’t have a date for a big work thing that he’s probably bricking himself over.”With that motivational speech, Luis kicks him out the van, and Steve wobbles along the street on knees that have turned to jelly, until he arrives at the theatre.





	Date Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrishArgh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishArgh/gifts).



> For my beloved Trash Unicorn [Trish](http://frau-argh.tumblr.com) who deserves all the love  
> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://thelittleblackfox.tumblr.com) reblogging the same five pictures of Sebastian Stan

It was Luis’ fault. It’s always Luis’ fault.  
Bucky should have realised when Luis started getting twitchy (twitchier), asking what he was doing friday night, if he had his good suit cleaned recently, the one he’d worn to the wedding of one of Luis’ innumerable cousins (and made his ass look ‘bomb as hell, man, like _yeeeeeooow_!’)  
When friday rolls around Luis is vibrating so hard he’s in danger of shaking himself out of time and space itself, so for the sake of all of them Bucky corners him in the kitchen, plasters his best Death Glare on his face and growls “What did you do?”  
Luis cringes. “You know I love you, man. You know that right? I’m a brother from another mother an’ all that, yeah?”  
“What. Did. You.” Bucky says, each word dropping like the stroke of an axe. “ _Do_?”  
“I may have, and this was for you, right? I know you been down lately, and you love the Captain America comics something fierce, not the shitty series when he went all Nazi rogue and you burned all your posters and ugly-cried into a bucket of Cherry Garcia.” Luis holds up his hands as Bucky looms over him. “But we agreed that never happened, and everything is copacetic and it was all just, like, mirror universe bullshit.”  
“ **Luis**.”  
“You were so bummed when you couldn’t get tickets for the opening night, right? And that would mean no going on tumblr until you did get to see it because some assholes don’t tag their spoilers, but with work that could be like a week and you without Tumblr for a week is some Apocalypse Now business Luis don’t need to witness.” Luis seems to shrink a little under Bucky’s glare. “ So I kind of entered your name in a competition to go to the _Infinite War_ premier, and you won, bro! So yay!”  
“The premier?” Bucky steps back. “But that’s tonight?”  
“Damn right it is! So you get to dress up all fine and fuckable, and walk the red carpet, and go see the movie before those assholes you follow on that blue hellsite.” Luis gives him a hopeful smile, despite being cramped up against the kitchen counter. “And you’re going with Steve Rogers.”

After the yelling, and the hyperventilating, and a cup of chamomile tea, Luis gently pushes Bucky towards the bathroom to shower and get ready.  
Bucky may or may not spend a good five minutes seriously considering knocking himself out on the tiles, but that would mean standing up _Steve Rogers_.  
At 6pm he’s shaved and dressed and fiddling with his hair. By 6:45pm he’s sitting in the passenger seat of Luis’ old van, round the corner from the theater, trying to inhale a bottle of Rescue Remedy.  
“Luis, your homeopathic shit isn’t working,” Bucky whines. “I still feel like my heart is gonna explode.”  
“Chill, man, you gotta chill.” Luis rubs the nape of Bucky’s neck. “It’s gonna be fine. You ain’t eaten a thing all afternoon, so no way you gonna throw up on the guy.”  
Bucky whines, louder and lower. “You don’t understand! I can’t do this. I can’t talk to the real life actual Steve Rogers! What am I gonna say? Guess which of your pictures I’ve fapped over?”  
“Dude, no one needs to hear that,” Luis says, aghast.  
Bucky sniffs his Rescue Remedy miserably. “I’m so screwed.”  
“Was it the one where he’s, like, holding the shield an’ looking down? With his hair all mussed up?” Luis asks curiously. “Because I’m just saying, I don’t go for dicks but even I would say yes to that, you know what I’m saying?”  
“Oh god,” Bucky whines again.  
“C’mon, brah. He’s just a guy,” Luis gives Bucky a gentle nudge. “Don’t think about Captain America, that’s the movie you’re gonna see. Think about this nice guy called Steve, who didn’t have a date for a big work thing that he’s probably bricking himself over.”

With that motivational speech, Luis kicks him out the van, and Steve wobbles along the street on knees that have turned to jelly, until he arrives at the theatre.  
The Steve Rogers. _The_ Steve Rogers, star of the Captain America movies (and Bucky’s more pornographic dreams). What the hell was he thinking? He should keep walking, find himself a nearby bar and kill some brain cells. Maybe if he drinks enough tequila he’ll-  
“Bucky?”  
Too late. Bucky looks up and see’s Steve Rogers walking towards him, smiling like the sun.  
“It’s Bucky Barnes, right?” Steve asks. “Luis told me all about you.”  
“Fuck,” Bucky says without thinking. “I deny everything.”  
Steve smiles, grabbing him by the hand and shaking it. There is a burst of camera flashes and Bucky winces, his eyes burning.  
“Holy shit, how are you not blind?” Bucky rubs his eyes.  
Steve laughs, a warm, low chuckle that will be featuring in future pornographic dreams _oh god stop thinking you idiot_ and wraps his arm around Bucky’s waist. Without thinking Bucky puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder as they turn to the cameras.  
“Just smile and it’ll be over soon,” Steve assures him.  
Bucky manages a smile, and Steve quickly pulls him away from the cameras and along the carpet.  
It’s maybe ten meters from the wall of photographers to the doors of the theater, but it takes Steve forever to walk it. There are fans clustered against security railings either side of the walkway, and Steve tries his best to stop for all of them.  
A girl with bright pink hair offers him a rainbow flag sticker, and Steve points to the lapel of his jacket, beaming when she sticks it in place. Barely five seconds later a severe looking woman, who Bucky can only assume is some kind of personal assistant, comes marching over.  
She pulls Steve away from the crows, and Bucky watches as they have a short, hissed conversation. The smile on Steve’s face is pained when she pulls the sticker off his jacket and drops it on the floor.  
Bucky bends down to pick it up, and walks over to Steve’s side. “What was all that?”  
Steve purses his mouth. “Nothing.”  
Bucky smooths a crease in the sticker. “Didn’t look like nothing.”  
“It’s just…” Steve glances at the crowds around them. “Really, it’s nothing. Just… you get tired of having to… Forget it, it’s not important.”  
Bucky looks down at the sticker, and back at Steve. He tugs the front of Steve’s jacket open, and reaches in. Steve lets out a sharp gasp, grabbing him by the wrist. “What are you doing?”  
“Sometimes you gotta be devious.” Bucky presses the sticker to his waistcoat, just inside of where the jacket lies. “There. Someplace no one can see it, but still there.”  
Bucky withdraws his hand, and Steve pushes his jacket back in place. “Thank you.”  
Someone shouts for an autograph, and Steve goes over to talk to them, while Bucky hangs back.  
It’s endearing, watching the way he signs autographs and leans into pictures, straining to hear people's questions and comments over the screaming and noise.  
Eventually a personal assistant comes back, and drags Steve bodily towards the theatre, Bucky in tow.

“Holy shit,” Bucky gasps, as soon as they’re through the doors. “That was intense!”  
Steve brushes a hand down the front of his suit, and glances towards the door, nodding absently when someone comes over with a tray of champagne. He takes two flutes, and offers one to Bucky.  
“Here, settle your nerves.”  
Bucky snorts, but takes the offered glass. “Unless it’s full of tequila it’s not gonna do a damn thing for my nerves. Elephant tranquilisers are my only hope now.”  
Steve laughs, covering his mouth with his hand to keep from spitting out champagne. Bucky can’t help but notice how pretty he is when he laughs, especially when he scrunches his face up and tips his head back.  
“Thank you,” Steve says when he’s recovered. He taps his jacket, where the sticker is hidden.  
“No problem,” Bucky gives Steve a sideways look. “Can’t be easy, a glorified nanny following you around, smacking your hand all the damn time.”  
“She’s just doing her job,” Steve tries to look indifferent, and fails.  
Bucky tips his head to one side. He can sense something simmering under the surface, something Steve isn’t saying. “C’mon, spit it out,” Bucky says when Steve falls silent. visibly pulling himself together.  
“She does through my twitter and deletes the messages she finds ‘controversial’.”  
Bucky grins. “Oh yeah. I’ve got some of those Hydra Cap ones saved on my phone.”  
“What?”  
“No such thing as deleted on the internet.” Bucky pulls out his phone and brings up his favourite. The one with all the swearing that his co-star replied to with ‘Language!’  
Bucky half extects Steve to look angry, instead he looks pleased.  
“Still, it’s nice that you did that,” Bucky puts his phone back in his pocket and nods to the doors. “Talking to everyone.”  
“Yeah, well,” Steve shrugs. “They’ve been here for hours. The least I can do is stop and talk a while.” He pulls at his tie again. “And I kinda hate that we get hurried past them, and for what? So we can stand in a foyer for half an hour drinking overpriced fizzy crap and making small talk?”  
Bucky glances around. No one is watching them, busy with their champagne and conversations. he grabs Steve’s glass, and hides it behind a potted palm with his own.  
“Well, if we’ve got half an hour,” he says with a grin. “Let’s get back out there.”  
Steve shakes his head. “My assistant-”  
“I’ll distract them.”  
“She’s really strict.”  
“Yeah, well I’m really annoying.”  
Steve shakes his head and smiles. “I give it five minutes before we’re back in here.”  
“Oh, you’re a betting man?” Bucky rubs his hands together. “Fifteen.”  
“Fifteen?” Steve licks his lips thoughtfully. “Brave. Foolish. What do I get if I win?”  
That champagne must be strong, because Bucky feels like his chest is filled with bubbles. Bright, effervescent bubbles, tingling and intoxicating.  
Suddenly he doesn’t care much about the movie, or the comics, or the glasses of champagne. But Steve, sweet, kind-hearted Steve, who wants to do the best for his fans? Bucky wants to know everything about him.  
“If you win,” Bucky says slowly. “I’ll let you buy me a coffee.”  
“What?” Steve’s breath catches. “We just… sneak off? Forget the whole movie and just be… two guys getting a coffee?”  
Bucky nods, biting his lower lip suggestively, and Steve goes pink around the ears.  
“And if you win?” Steve asks.  
“You’ll let me buy you a coffee.”  
Steve glances around, waiting for the moment his assistant turns away from them. “Let’s go.”


End file.
